


The Storm was Over

by verfound



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Dragon AU, Dragon Luka, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Faerie Tales Don't Have Happy Endings, Fantasy AU, Hardcore Character Death, Semi-graphic violence, Tissue Box Warning, Whump, mermaid au, mermaid marinette, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23633134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: He had said he would trade every treasure in his hoard for her safety.  She’d chided him, back then, because it had felt like an omen.  Now, it felt more like a curse.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 22
Kudos: 122
Collections: Dammit Quick





	The Storm was Over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quickspinner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/gifts).



> Hardcore character death; TBW; semi-graphic depictions of violence (mentions of blood and stabbing); whump. Probably more of a T/PG-13, but upping the rating for the safe side. Inspired by @Quickspinner’s “The Sky and the Sea” (ch1, Across all Realms). My…uh…my Irish flared up. Quick gives us pretty, nice things, and I smash ‘em with a hammer. (I’ve been getting yelled at for a month about this one, guys. Time to rip the band-aide off. xD) 
> 
> Also, here’s some mood music we found to really drive the nails in:  
> “Dynasty” – MIIA: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8JSdy3nLLYA  
> “All the Kings Horses” – Karmina: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1j2LoW3P14

The storm was over.

That was Marinette’s only thought as she sped towards the surface, a wide smile stretching her lips as the sea cut around her. She broke through a wave with a mighty leap, twisting as she spun through a beautiful clear blue sky. At the highest point of her jump, she stretched out her arms and arched her back, exposing as much of herself to the warm sun’s rays as she could before falling back into the sea. She had barely dipped below the surface before she was leaping again, a musical laugh spilling from her lips as she passed through her mate’s element. It had been too long, too many days trapped below the churning waves. The storm had lasted longer than either had expected.

But now it was past, and she could once again return to their mountain home. She hadn’t wanted to leave in the first place, but Luka had been insistent. She had desperately needed to hunt, yet with the gathering clouds she had been afraid of getting stuck too far from him. From their home. From the miracle shimmering in the pool deep inside their cave.

She flipped onto her back and skimmed along the surface, sighing as the sun warmed her skin and scales. Her smile grew as she thought of their children, the eggs growing stronger with every passing day. She never would have thought they’d be possible, when she had first bound herself to Luka – and then there they’d been, defying all reason as miracles were wont to do.

She rolled onto her stomach and swam a bit deeper before darting back up to break through the surface in another leap. The dormant volcano was in sight. She would be home soon, reunited with her loves. If she craned her neck and strained her eyes, she could see the glint of gold high atop the eyrie. Luka was waiting with their children. She could not see him from this distance – perhaps he had shifted to his human form – but the glint of gold let her know he had brought the children outside to watch for her return. She leapt into the air again, knowing he wouldn’t see her from this distance, especially with his human eyes, but hoping he could all the same.

The bowl had been a rather ingenious idea on his part, actually. While the eggs had been hard as stone – as dragon eggs typically were – they had also been covered with a thin membrane, requiring seawater to thrive – as was typical of her people. They were beautiful little things, glowing with an internal fire that only grew brighter the stronger they became. She had preferred to keep them in a pool near the back of the cave, deep enough that the eggs were protected but shallow enough that they were visible. Safe from the outside world until they were strong enough to survive it. Luka had hated being far from them, though, which had led him to form a bowl large enough to carry the eggs fully submerged from gold melted from his hoard. She had decorated it with shed scales, both her own and some of his smaller ones, and the eggs had only glowed brighter under the warm sun.

She imagined there would be many days stretched out over the rocks, basking in the sun’s rays, ahead of them.

She hadn’t been able to argue with him when she had seen that. The children loved the open air as much as their father did, it seemed, and who was she to deny them? Besides, she loved seeing the sun shine on the gold and scales of the bowl as she returned home from a hunt. She loved knowing they were all there, waiting and watching for her.

The distance melted behind her with every leap. Her heart pounded in her chest, full to bursting with the rush of a good swim and the joy of returning home. She couldn’t resist showing off a little as she drew closer: a higher leap here, an intricate spin there, a magnificent splash to round it all off. She could practically hear Luka’s deep, melodic laugh in her ears.

_Ever the braggart, little fish,_ he would chuckle at her – right before she would use her tail to fling some water at him. She didn’t have to show off for either of them to know how good she was.

By the time she drew close enough to get a proper look at the eyrie, Luka had retreated with the bowl. That was fine: she knew he was bringing them to greet her. When she broke through the surface by the rock that dipped into the sea – the same rock she had first found him on all that time ago – she was disheartened to find it empty.

“Luka!” she called, her tail twitching impatiently behind her. She craned her neck and searched the sky, but it was empty as well.

Quiet.

Why was it so quiet?

She backflipped into the sea, a growing sense of unease adding an urgency to her movements. She soon found the mouth of the underwater caverns, the old lava tubes that had been reinforced for her personal use as an easy entrance to their home. As she neared the pool that would bring her to the mountain’s interior, she slowed. It was…bright. Too bright. And though they were muted through the water, she could make out…voices.

Unfamiliar voices.

_Human_ voices.

She rose slowly from the water, just up to her nose – enough to see the glittering hoard around her. The torchlight that shouldn’t be there making the gold glitter as much as the armor of the men rooting through the treasure, laughing as they went. Glittering like the cloak and hair of the man standing before the dragon, lying still towards the back of the cave. Still like…

Like…

…Luka wasn’t moving.

– V –

“We should go.”

Prince Adrien stopped his perusal of the cave to look back to his long-time friend and most trusted advisor. Nino was still kneeling by the dragon’s corpse, his hands resting on the underbelly of the beast and his eyes closed. When the mage opened them, he looked just as furious as he had when this whole ordeal had begun.

“Relax, my friend!” Adrien laughed, walking over to him and clapping a hand on his shoulder. Nino winced and averted his eyes, looking back to the dragon. “The beast is dead! The storm is over! We have time to load the treasure and still have an easy voyage home.”

Adrien knelt down and squeezed his shoulder, still smiling.

“We have _won_ , Nino,” he said. “Relish the victory!”

“This is no victory, my Prince,” Nino said darkly, shrugging his shoulder away from Adrien’s grip. “This…this is no victory. And you would do well to leave the gold here. Dragon’s gold is cursed, especially when claimed like…this.”

“This war was started by the dragon, Nino,” Adrien said firmly. “You would do well to remember that.”

Nino’s eyes darted to the pouch slung around Adrien’s hip. He knew what was inside, even if his prince did not. Just as he knew no one stole from dragons and lived to tell the tale. Still, while Adrien had been adamant on Nino’s joining the quest, he had yet to heed any of the mage’s counsel since their ship had first struck out under the cover of the gathering storm. Nino didn’t see why the prince would start now.

“Yes, highness,” Nino sighed, turning back towards the dragon. “I shall be finished soon. My advice would be we leave before his family returns.”

“Tch, family,” Adrien scoffed, standing and dusting his knees off. “ _What_ family, Nino? Everyone knows dragons are solitary beasts.”

Nino wasn’t so sure. His eyes left the dragon to land on the shallow pool it had refused to move from the entire time Adrien’s men had been inside the mountain. It had stood guard over that pool, even going so far as to shift to a human form to plead with the prince to leave the mountain in peace. He had offered up every treasure before them – every speck of gold in the dragon’s hoard – if they would only leave. The prince had never trusted dragons, however, and certainly not _this_ dragon. Nino had watched in horror as his prince had attacked, crying vengeance for the long-dead Queen. The dragon hadn’t had time to shift back to his proper form – had almost seemed unwilling to – and had tried to fight the prince as a man. Unarmed.

It had not been a fair fight. It also hadn’t been a long one.

It had been a fight Nino hadn’t understood until Kim, captain of Adrien’s guard, had found the golden bowl hidden in the pool – or, more specifically, had pulled the string of glowing sapphires from the bowl with a bellowing _whoop_. Nino had known how precious, how rare, the _sapphires_ were the moment he’d seen them. He’d watched in horror as Kim had laid the glowing gems in the prince’s hands, and he’d understood exactly what was happening as he watched their internal fire grow dimmer and dimmer. He had tried to reason with the prince, to convince him to put the stones back in the pool, but Adrien _would not listen_. Adrien had marveled at their beauty, holding the string up and declaring the stones the prize of the collection – though it was _a pity their shine seemed to be fading, perhaps a magic trick tied to the dragon’s life force?_ He had placed the string of sapphires in his pouch, his attention immediately caught by another discovery further into the cave.

That had been three days ago. The seas and skies had raged at the dragon’s passing, trapping the Prince and his men in the mountain. And while Adrien and his guard had set about looting the mountain, Nino had not left the dragon’s side. He was an ancient being, and the rites to see his passing were long and involved. It was the least Nino could do, having played a part in his destruction.

But now the rites were delivered. The storm was over. And Nino knew they were running out of time.

– V –

Prince Adrien liked to think he was a good man. He was a brave prince and a loyal son, willing to do anything to protect his kingdom and those he loved.

Willing, even, to slay a dragon.

Adrien had been just a boy when his parents had left on a voyage to his aunt’s kingdom. There had been some political matter that had needed seeing to, and he had been ill and unable to join them. When their ship had returned, his father had greeted him with a stony face and grave words: his mother had been lost at sea. The Queen was dead. Taken, his father had claimed, by the dragon that lived on their coastal borders.

He still remembered the last time he had seen his Queen mother, sitting over him with eyes like a summer field and a smile warm as the sun. He remembered her cool hand against his face and the gentle song she had sung to soothe his fevered sleep. She had not wanted to go, he recalled: had not wanted to leave her sick child. But his father had insisted her presence in the Graham de Vanily kingdom was essential, and his father was the King. The King’s word was law. And so his mother had gone.

Adrien had never gotten the full story from King Gabriel, what exactly had happened at sea and how the dragon had been involved. The young prince only knew that his mother was gone and it was the dragon’s fault. And it had seemed that the dragon’s ire would not end with his mother: he had watched as the dragon had cursed the land, as fields withered and herds died under the blight. Adrien did not understand the Old Magics, but his father assured him it was the dragon’s fault. An ancient, petty curse, the King had claimed, that dragons could cast with their mere presence in a land.

And Prince Adrien was a good son. He trusted his father would never lie to him.

So when his father had finally taken ill himself and claimed the only cure would be the dragon’s death, the brave Prince had not hesitated in mounting a force of his most trusted men. Lê Chiến Kim, the talented warrior from the East who had quickly risen to captain of his personal guard. The High Mage Nino Lahiffe, who had been his friend for years and understood the Old Magics better than most. Max Kanté, a fierce soldier and expert navigator who would see them safely to the dragon’s mountain lair. Théo Barbot, who was…there. (Honestly he wasn’t sure _what_ Théo did or why he was included in the party, but Kim had assured him the man was capable of a variety of things and would prove essential to their quest. Adrien trusted Kim, and Kim trusted Théo, and that was good enough for him.)

Their total party had been comprised of eight men. Adrien had been confident numbers were not what would win this fight, despite the dragon’s reported size: stealth and ability would. They had waited, and his father had grown frailer, until finally the perfect opportunity had presented itself: a gathering storm, one the High Priestess Nathalie Sancoeur had assured the Prince would last for days.

“If you are to go, you must go now,” she had told him as they watched the gathering clouds from her tower home. “Slay the dragon and rid the land of its curse, my Prince. Save your father.”

Nino had stood to his side, uncomfortable as he always was in Nathalie’s presence. While still human, Nino was a human connected to the magic of the land – an abomination, in Nathalie’s religion’s eyes. Just as her puritanical zeal was an abomination in his.

“Reconsider, my friend,” Nino had whispered to him while the Priestess’s back had been turned. “You know there is more to this than a dragon no one’s even seen in _years_. Magic is never that simple. Your father –”

“Is dying,” Nathalie had bit sharply, turning to face them. “Would you wager the King’s life on your _feelings,_ Mage?”

She had said the word like a curse. Nino’s face had pinched, his grip tightening on his staff. He had said nothing else, knowing the Priestess was right. Adrien loved his friend dearly and trusted his abilities, but Adrien was also a man of the modern world. He trusted what he saw with his own eyes more than the invisible, _Old Magics_ Nino lived by. Besides, everyone knew a kingdom never thrived under a dragon’s greedy eye. He had sworn to his father he would slay the dragon and break the curse, and that was exactly what he intended to do.

The journey to the port town was barely half a day’s ride from the Agreste Keep, and by noon the next day the party was on their way. As the clouds had darkened and the rain had begun to fall, Adrien had instructed Nino to create a mist. They had sailed towards the dormant volcano under its cover, unseen by the dragon perched high on the leeward side.

By the time they had anchored and found the only sea level entrance, it had been too late.

And now the dragon was dead, and the storm was over, and his men were busy loading the hoard onto their ship. They would return as heroes, the saviors of the land, and oh! The feasts his recovered father would throw in their honor! The songs the bards would write, the tourneys held in celebration! A smile blossomed on the young Prince’s face as he pulled out the string of sapphires Kim had found in the pool towards the back of the cave. They no longer shone as they had when they had first been discovered, which was a pity – and no matter what they tried, it seemed that internal fire had been lost forever. Still, they were pretty little things, and he imagined they would make a fine necklace for the daughter of the Empress Tsurugi, his –

An unearthly howl echoed throughout the chamber.

The sapphires fell from his hand as Prince Adrien jumped, startled by the sudden noise. What the blazes…?

“We need to go,” Nino said, appearing at his side. Adrien bent to retrieve the stones, and Nino laid a hand on his shoulder. “Leave them, highness. I beg you.”

“Nino, you are entirely too tense,” Adrien laughed. He returned the stones to his pouch as he stood, shrugging the mage’s hand off his shoulder. “One would even say you were paranoid. The beast is dead. The storm is over. When we have loaded the treasure, we shall return home as heroes! We are _safe_ , my friend.”

Nino did not look convinced. Adrien laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Though I would love to know what that sound was,” he said with an easy laugh. He turned towards one of the larger pools, where Max was peering into the darkness. “Max! You are a learned man – what do you think that was?”

“Death,” Nino muttered, hanging his head. The Prince rolled his eyes, squeezing Nino’s shoulder before turning back towards Max. His back was still to them, the soldier giving no sign he would answer the Prince – or that he had even heard him. Adrien frowned.

“Max?” he called again, taking a step towards the pool. A gasping sound crept in under the chatter echoing through the cave. Max dropped to his knees and fell forward into the pool, disappearing beneath the still water. Adrien rushed forward, ignoring Nino’s pleas to wait. “Men! To me! Max!”

– V –

Luka wasn’t moving.

Why wasn’t Luka moving?

The cave had grown eerily silent around Marinette. Or…no. It wasn’t silent. The humans were still laughing. The movement of chests and crates – all of her mate’s treasures, boxed up and carried away like common loot, like it meant _nothing_ , and why would it to these petty thieves? – echoed off the walls. But all Marinette could hear was the silence, a roar of white noise as her gaze locked on her mate. On the robed human kneeling beside him, his hands on his stomach and… _no_ …she knew the words he was whispering. She knew the Rites he was delivering.

Her breath caught in her throat, a lump choking her as she rose from the water. But Luka had been _fine!_ He had just been on the eyrie as she swam in, waiting with their children to greet…the children.

The _children_.

Where were…?

The change was already overcoming her, her fin separating as scales dissolved into skin. She pushed herself up onto the ledge, coins scattering where her hands disturbed them to fall into the pool around her. She forced her eyes from her…from…she looked away, desperately searching their home for _anything_ , any sign that the children were all right. She couldn’t see the bowl. She was too far away from the other pool to see, and even without the distance Luka’s b….Luka…

Her arms gave out, and she slipped back into the water. Her magic failed, her gills fluttering furiously with every forced breath as her fin slashed through the water in a spasm. The children. She had to find the children!

She broke the surface with a gasp, trying to clear her frantic mind and focus. One of the humans was drawing closer. A man with long, pale braids tied back into a tail, obsidian glasses covering his eyes…but then her focus was back on the golden-haired human, as he reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out…

He was holding their children.

And they were a dull, lifeless black.

The deep, dark blue of an unchurned ocean, too far for the waves of the storm to reach.

Their fire was gone.

She heard the howl echoing off the walls of the cavern, silencing the nattering of the humans, and knew it to be her own. She knew, instinctually, that a spine had flared and she had lashed out, even as the human with the braids dropped to his knees and slipped below the still waters. She could feel her feet itching – and _oh, how he would tease her as she wiggled her human toes, complaining of the discomfort of their tween forms, but how she would gasp as he’d settle over her, reminding her why the forms were tolerated when_ – and knew she had shifted, even as her human legs carried her towards the golden-haired man who stood gawking at her, frozen in place. Two more humans rushed towards her as the robed man grabbed the golden-haired man and pulled him away. She felt her spines flare, slicing through the air as her arms extended, as she cut through their throats without even gifting them the venom for a painless death. She was aware of them dropping to her sides, of the shouts of the burly human and his lither companion as they rushed forward to take their fallen comrades’ place.

She knew all of this. She knew what she was doing.

But she didn’t _know_.

Marinette didn’t know anything beyond the man with hair that would never shine like her dead mate’s treasures. The worthless _human_ who had admired her lifeless children like the treasure they were only to drop them like they meant nothing. The inexcusable monster who had destroyed her home and taken everything that she loved from her.

“Halt!” the larger soldier shouted in the Common Tongue, raising his sword. The golden-haired monster was behind them, the Mage drawing him further and further away…she could not let them escape. She could not let _him_ escape.

He had her children.

And she _would_ get them back.

“I said halt!” the soldier cried as she took a step forward. Her gills flared, her rage making the magic of her tween form falter, and when she opened her mouth it was a keening shriek that came out. The soldier hesitated.

“She’s a wild beast – you know her kind doesn’t speak the Common Tongue,” his comrade sneered, and she opened her mouth to scream at him in the Common Tongue that yes, they did – but her magic was still failing. Another shriek filled the cave, the Old Language of her people that sang in harmonies under the water but tore at human ears above it. She gnashed her teeth and shrieked again, demanding they move aside, but they could not understand. The smaller man’s eyes flicked behind her, and on instinct she spun with her spines extended.

She caught another human in the chest, her spines sinking through the coarse fabric of his tunic and through his skin. He gaped at her as she drew her arm back, the skin around the punctures already coloring with his blood and her venom. She heard movement behind her and grabbed him, spinning again and tossing his body at his fellow soldiers. The larger man dodged easily, but the smaller man was knocked back into a mound of treasure.

She paid no attention to the gasping coming from her feet, her eyes still locked warily on the larger enemy – but she had seen the golden tip piercing through the smaller man’s shoulder, low enough to end his life. His breathing was wet, his scrabbling fingers moving sluggishly against the point even as the other man died in his lap. They were irrelevant, no longer her concern.

Her only concern was behind the hulking soldier before her.

He would stand aside, one way or another.

He raised his sword, his hand as steady as the steeled gaze he locked on her.

Marinette didn’t know what she was doing.

Marinette knew everything she was doing.

She lunged.

– V –

By the time the Prince had realized what was happening, it was too late.

_The Prince hadn’t realized what was happening from the beginning, from the dragon-turned-man who wouldn’t fight him, from his father’s mysterious illness, from the blight on his lands, from the stories of his Queen mother lost at sea._

The woman had appeared out of thin air.

And she was…beautiful.

Even in the terror that followed, Adrien could not deny that the woman’s beauty rivaled all of the gold in that cursed mountain. Rivaled, even, his own beloved Kagami.

Max was gone, disappeared into the pool on the far side of the cave before any of them could even realize he was in danger. Nino had pulled him back from the charge as the woman had burst from the pool, a howling blur of red. She moved too fast for the prince to get a good visual at first, her billowing red and white skirts flaring about her legs – or, no, were they skirts at all? Her sleeves stiffened as she spun, lashing out and sending Jacques and Gus to the ground at her feet. And then she was standing before Kim and Théo, and Adrien was struck dumb by the sight of her.

Eyes bluer than the sea and alive with fury burned into him. Hair dark as midnight hung in wet waves just past her bare shoulders. What he had mistaken for sleeves and skirts were fins and spines, draping over a humanoid form that was covered in pale skin and glittering crimson scales – a mermaid, caught in her shifted form as she attacked on land. He had never seen one so close, or really at all.

He had the barest moment to admire her beauty before she was spinning, driving her natural weapons into Xavier’s chest before she threw him at Théo. They both landed in one of the remaining piles of treasure. Neither got back up as she advanced on Kim.

“Adrien, _please_ ,” Nino begged, pulling on his arm again. Her eyes flashed as he turned, and another shriek left her. He heard Kim return the cry, the clanging of his blade, but he didn’t see any of it. Nino was running, dragging him around the remaining piles of treasure – there had been so much, too much, even with what had already been loaded on his ship – and towards the mouth of the cave. Back to safety. Away from…

…he cried out as cold fingers grabbed at his arm and pulled, another shriek echoing in his ears. Nails – claws – tore through his sleeve, shredding the skin beneath. He heard Nino shout as he was pulled from his grip, but his own cry drowned it out. Pain flared down his arm like fire as she pulled it from his shoulder, dislocating the bone. He raised his eyes, staring in horror at the woman. Her lips pulled back from gleaming teeth. Her eyes shone with hate. She tightened her grip, and he felt his bones break.

“Stop, please!” Nino shouted, but when he tried to approach she raised her head and shrieked again. Nino lifted his hands, a placating gesture.

Adrien saw all of this from his knees.

When had he fallen to his knees?

When had their victory turned into a defeat?

Where had this mermaid come from, and why did she care if the dragon had been slain?

“You can have them,” Nino said, and Adrien turned wild, glassy eyes towards his friend. What? “Please. He…he didn’t know.”

“He knew,” the woman hissed in the Common Tongue, and Adrien turned back to her in shock. Her grip tightened on his arm, and he screamed again. “ _Humans._ You always know.”

“He didn’t!” Nino begged. “He’s…he’s an idiot! A fool! He did not listen, and I am _sorry_ , and you can have them back!”

Her eyes flashed, and she shrieked again – grating, garbled sounds that he realized must be her language.

“…I’m sorry,” Nino breathed, his voice solemn. “We will leave, and we will never return, and –”

Her nails dug into his arm. Another shriek. His head was spinning. He had to escape. He had to…

– V –

It was all unraveling.

Nino had tried to warn the prince, but Adrien wouldn’t _listen_. Adrien _never_ listened. And now everyone was dead, and they would be, too, if the crazed mother chose against showing them mercy. His eyes flicked down to his prince, brought to his knees before the raging woman, and they widened when he saw Adrien’s good arm moving towards his belt.

“Adrien, no!” Nino shouted, lunging forward. The mermaid’s head snapped down towards the prince, but it was too late. She stared at the dagger lodged in her chest, a hand raising slowly to touch the fingers still curled around the hilt. Her grip on Adrien’s arm loosened, and the prince fell to the cave’s floor with a shout. He scrambled away, kicking at her feet as he tried to return to Nino’s side, and Nino watched in horror as her form shimmered. She fell to the ground, her legs disappearing, her head smacking against the stone even as her back arched unnaturally. She laid there, her face turned towards the body of the dragon, the only sign of life the slow, uneven rise and fall of her chest.

“…we…we must go,” Adrien gasped, pushing himself up from his knees. Nino grabbed the straps of his breastplate, snarling as he yanked the prince towards him.

“What have you done?” he seethed. Adrien blinked glassy, pain-dulled eyes at him, and Nino shook him furiously. “What have you done?!”

Before Adrien could answer, Nino grabbed at the pouch on his hip. He tossed aside the necklace Xavier had found, the large doubloon woven among trinkets and shells that had been such an impressive find until Kim had discovered the _sapphires_ , and retrieved the eggs. He held them up for Adrien to see, shaking them in his face.

“This is what she wants,” he hissed. “They are not _gemstones_ , you fool of a prince. They are her _children_.”

A low whine came from the mermaid. Nino pushed Adrien away and walked towards her, the eggs cradled in his hands.

He prayed it was not too late to make things right.

He knew it was far too late.

– V –

Luka was watching her, a gentle smile on his draconic face. His eyes sparkled with a teasing light.

_You were late, little fish,_ his deep voice rumbled in her mind. She moaned, her head swimming. His warm arm fit under her shoulders, lifting her from the stone. _Whatever am I going to do with you, love?_

“I shouldn’t have left,” she gasped. She needed air. She needed water. Why couldn’t she breathe? Why did it hurt? Luka chuckled and brushed her hair from her face, his fingers threading through her own and squeezing her hand tight

_You had to hunt,_ he whispered. _You would be useless to us a starved husk._

“I am useless to you now, love,” she tried to say, but her throat was closing on her. She winced as he jostled her, pain lancing through her head and down her spine. Why…why did her back hurt? Why did…

_I’m sorry_ , Luka said. She forced her eyes open, confusion clouding her mind. Sorry…? Why was he…

Luka was across the cave in front of her, in his natural form. His glassy, dead eyes stared back at her, his forked tongue lolled from his open mouth. She tried to suck in a lungful of air as her body spasmed, an arm reaching out blindly towards what used to be him. The arm around her shoulders tightened, and she snapped wild eyes towards the human holding her. The Mage. It was the Mage.

“Easy, easy,” he said quietly, trying to hold her still. She stopped thrashing when another wave of pain rolled through her, and a keening whine left her lips. His hand pressed against her stomach, pressing…her eyes widened as she tried to look down.

Her children.

She was holding her children.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I swear to you I am sorry,” the Mage said. She tried to look at him, but it hurt to move. He raised his arm, steadying her. “You…you fell. After…”

The monster. The one who had taken her children. He had stabbed her.

A hand lifted to her chest, and she screamed as she ripped the dagger from her body, tossing it across the cave. The Mage swore and pressed a hand against her wound, and her head swam. The room was spinning.

“None of this was supposed to happen like this. We thought… _I_ thought…we didn’t know,” the Mage whispered. Another moaning wail left her as he stood, picking her up. Her back hurt, but the pain was distant. Like she was detached from it. She tried to curl in on herself, to protect the children, as he carried her away from the monster. Her head fell back when he placed her down, the softness of Luka’s crest cushioning her back. The Mage had taken them to Luka.

_It’s almost over,_ he whispered, his voice wrapping around her like an embrace. _Rest, love._

But she couldn’t. The monster was still alive. The Mage was still alive. And Luka…the children…

“I’m sorry,” the Mage said again, uselessly. She blinked slowly, breathed slowly. Everything was slowly. Why was her face wet? “I’m so sorry…”

She couldn’t move her head, but her eyes flicked towards him. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. He stood and backed away, shaking his head as he murmured Ancient Words to bless what had become a cursed space. As he whispered another platitude in the Common Tongue. And Marinette knew the Common Tongue. She understood his words, as well as she understood the greed of his kind, of _humans_.

She understood his words.

She did not believe them.

– V –

Jagged was the Storm, and the Storm was Jagged, and he was _livid_.

He had been too late to stop the humans. Too far away.

A dragon is always painfully aware of his own, and he had known the moment his son’s flame had been extinguished.

And oh, how he had _raged_. For days on end. As long as those blasted humans remained inside Luka’s mountain. As long as he had felt the magics stirring, barring his entry, allowing his son to pass to where they could not reach.

But he was on his way. It was too late for Luka, but he would save the others. Avenge his blood. Protect the bairns, the mergirl Luka had taken for his mate.

That was his responsibility now, and he would not fail his son a second time.

He heard the shrieking before he reached the mountain. He felt her pain as if it was his own, because in many ways it was.

He was too late.

Again.

Thunder rent the sky as he opened his maw in a mighty roar. Lightning crackled over his scales as he dove, swooping in through the eyrie. Another roar tore through him, halting any movement on the floor of the cavern below – if there had been any movement to begin with.

He shifted, dropping to the stone in a swirl of dark cloud and lightning. Deadly, furious blue eyes flashed around the cave, spotting the body of his son. The Mage trying to retreat on shaky legs. The blond prince clinging to the Mage with one arm, the other bloodied and held limply to his chest.

…Marinette, gasping in shallow breaths as her tail flopped against the stone. Her bleeding head dropped back against Luka’s neck, her arm curled protectively around the dark eggs in her lap. The bloodied dagger on the ground by her tail, the red coating her scales and skin and….

His head snapped back towards the prince, his lips curling back in a snarl.

“ _Run,_ ” he hissed, halfway across the cavern and shifting before the humans could even think to move.

– V –

It hurt.

Everything hurt.

_Why did it hurt?_

Her eyes opened at the sound of thunder, at the screams that ended as soon as they’d begun, but she couldn’t see. She tried to call out, to speak, but all that came out was another choked gasp. She was so tired. So tired. She…

“Shhh, shhh…I’m here, baby girl,” a soothing voice cooed. She felt fingers brushing through her hair, a hand resting over her own, over…her eyes snapped open and she jerked forward, her body spasming with a drowned cry.

_Jagged._

Why was Jagged there?

“I’ve got you,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Rest, Marinette. Easy.”

She blinked, but she could not see him. She could feel him trying to move her arm, trying to take…her tail twitched, the spines extending in a warning, and then she didn’t feel him anymore.

“I know, baby girl,” he sighed.

She felt water, washing over her chest. Her arm. Washing over the children. But didn’t he realize? Didn’t he know it was too late? She tried to scream as he moved her arm again, shifting it to accommodate…

Her head fell back, her eyes closing as her arm tightened around the bowl in her lap. They were safe. They were with her. Luka was with her.

“Rest, Marinette.”

A gentle breeze caressed her face, cooling the wet leaking from her eyes – the wet she had never felt below the sea.

She could rest now.

– V –

The Agreste Keep was a good day, day and a half’s journey from the lonely mountain off its coastal border.

But what was that distance to a dragon?

King Gabriel stood on his balcony, leaning heavily on the rail as he watched the King’s Road. The Prince should have returned days ago. If not for the storms that had buffeted the kingdom for nearly a week now, the conquering party would still be celebrating their victory feast in the grand hall. And though the storm was over, the Prince had yet to return.

A crackle of thunder rumbling through the clouds above his head caused the King to look up, if only momentarily. More storms were on the way, rolling in from the sea.

He was as sick of the storms as he was of _dragons_.

Gabriel lowered his gaze to the road, fisting his pale, drawn hands over the rail. His nails cut into his palms, but he didn’t notice the pain. Where was Adrien? Where was his –?

A roar of thunder echoed throughout the skies, and King Gabriel looked up in time to see a mass hurtling towards him. He stumbled back from the rail, tripping over his robe and landing in the doorway to his rooms as a body smacked into the stone of the balcony. His eyes widened in shock as the body rolled towards him, the green eyes of his son staring back at him lifelessly.

Before Gabriel could process what he was seeing – before he could take in the blood caking Adrien’s cracked armor, the gash slicing through his neck, the blistered skin of his arm and face – another body dropped from the skies. Thick black boots….no, not boots. What he had initially taken for leather was thick scales. Dark ebony claws curled over the rail. Black robes shrouded the man, snapping back in the growing wind to reveal a sinewy frame. Pale hands fisted at his sides, another deadly set of ebony claws cutting into his skin. Purple-tipped black hair – or, no, were they purple feathers woven into the strands? – whipped around a steely face Gabriel was almost too afraid to look at – _almost_ , but Gabriel had always been a proud king, and he feared few things.

He feared those blue eyes, cool as the winter sky and crackling with lightning.

The man opened his mouth, a roar of thunder echoing throughout the Keep as he screamed.

King Gabriel turned, scrambling back into his rooms as the Storm overtook him.

– V –

The storm was over.

The storm was _finally_ over.

The siren Rose had thought she’d feel better about that.

She heard a flapping above her head, the wind tousling her hair as it moved across the lonely beach. She stopped singing when a soft thud came from behind her, and she held her arm closer to her chest as footsteps approached. A quiet hiss sounded by her ear as thin fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her arm out for inspection.

She knew. Of course she knew. She could probably smell the blood before she had landed, but there was already so much blood in this place now…

“Who –” Juleka began, violet eyes flashing like her father’s, but Rose shook her head. She reached up, brushing Juleka’s long black hair behind her ear. Her lips pursed together, trying to hold back the low growl rumbling in her chest. She looked towards the entrance of the cave, and Rose shook her head.

“I tried,” she said quietly. She was afraid to be too loud in this place. “Sabine…Sabine wanted…”

She grabbed at Juleka’s arm as she moved towards the cave. Juleka looked back at her, eyes flashing, and she shook her head.

“…she’s still in there,” Rose whispered, her eyes darting back towards the cave. “I tried…this is cursed ground now, Juleka. She… _she_ is cursed.”

“What?” Juleka asked, turning towards her. Her eyes were wide, and pained, and Rose found she couldn’t hold her gaze for long. “Father…Father said…”

“…he left her there, Juleka,” Rose whispered around the knot in her throat. She blinked the tears away, her hand trembling on Juleka’s arm. “Luka…the children…but he left her there. And while all of you were destroying the kingdom, she was trapped in there. Alone. With…”

Juleka’s eyes dropped to the long scratches along Rose’s pale arm. The mottled bruising.

“She did this?” she gasped. Marinette had always had a fiery streak, but she had always been so kind. So gentle.

“When Sabine and Gina went to retrieve her body…it was too long, Juleka,” Rose said. “She’s…I don’t know what she is anymore. Something…something feral. I tried to get the children, so you could…but she wouldn’t even let me inside the cave. I’ve been trying to administer the Rites, so she can move on and be with…but the pain here is so strong…”

Juleka pulled the siren against her, holding her tightly as she wept. She never should have asked her to retrieve the eggs – that was something she should have handled herself. Something their parents should have done, but none of the dragons had been thinking clearly in the days that had followed Jagged’s gruesome discovery. She doubted any of them would be thinking clearly for a long time yet, even with the remains of the Golden Kingdom still smoldering behind them.

She held Rose closer as a quiet, keening song left her, rolling over the rocks and filling the beach with her mourning. Her eyes closed, pressing against her tears as more voices joined, rising from the depths of the sea and falling from the skies. The voices of the seafolk and skyfolk blended in a beautiful harmony, singing for what had been lost and could never be reclaimed.

She looked towards the sky as a gentle rain began to fall on her face. A low rumble of thunder chased the lightning streaking across the sky, and Juleka took a steadying breath as she held her mate closer. Her eyes drifted back to the cave her brother and his bairns would never leave, where her sister…

Marinette stood, pale and shimmering in her tween form, in the mouth of the cave. Her dull eyes seemed to stare through Juleka, her mouth moving soundlessly as she joined the song, her arms hanging listlessly at her sides – but then the wind blew, and Juleka blinked against the rain in her eyes, and when she looked again…

…Marinette was gone.

– V –

There is a cave that sits in the heart of a dormant volcano off the coast of the Old Golden Kingdom, far from the ruins of the Agreste Keep. It is said it is filled with wonders, a mountain of treasures that many have risked their lives for. It is also said that none of that is true anyway, because why would such a treasure be left unguarded in the wilds of a long-dead kingdom?

Except it is also said that the treasure isn’t unguarded at all. Many men have sailed to the mountain, and many men have failed to return. Some say it is merely the sea: the open waters are filled with deadly storms and deadlier creatures, and it is only natural that some would be lost to the depths. Others claim the land of the old kingdom is cursed, razed by dragon fire and swallowed by the tide.

(But that’s just a story – no one has seen a dragon in years, and most likely the destruction was caused by an errant bolt of lightning to a tree during a drought. That happens all the time, after all, and the Golden Kingdom was never a large kingdom to begin with.)

But there are stories. From the old days. Back when people still dreamed of what could lie inside that mountain. Stories of a beautiful women, with eyes as blue as the sea and hair black as midnight. Stories of a song that would lure unsuspecting men towards the rocks she roamed. Stories of stones that once burned like fire, of bones larger than houses that lurked inside. Of lives lost when they tried to take what was never theirs to claim.

But those are, after all, just stories.

_and, oh, give me mercy for my dreams_

_cause every confrontation seems_

_to tell me what it really means_

_to be this lonely sailor_

_and when the sky begins to clear_

_and the sun it melts away my fear_

_i’ll cry a silent, weary tear_

_for those that need to love me…_

_. . : : ready for the storm – dougie maclean : : . ._


End file.
